Expression of Honor (eBook)

George Richardson, Ramona Vallee (Autoren)

eBook Download: EPUB

2021 | 1. Auflage
494 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-0983-7798-4 (ISBN)

Infos

Expression of Honor is a Civil War romance. Juliette is from France and fell in love with a visiting Southern officer. He must leave for the United states before her. She leaves later on a blockade runner. All the revelations, predicaments, and perils gives her resilience and fortitude to meet each situation. Frank identifies himself as a Kansan after a decade of dealing with border ruffians, bloodshed spawned by the pro-slavers against the ant-slavers. Also the political wrangling from the Kansas-Nebraska act festered into Bloody Kansas. Frank was sick and tired of being sick and tired. He was ready to hash it out in the Rebellion as a Lieutenant Colonel under General Ulysses Grant The two main characters separate stories merge into a supernatural moment.

Textauszug

Chapter 2

Introduction of Juliette Bellechasse

It was a beautiful June morning in 1861, Paris, France. Juliette made her way through the streets carrying a parcel wrapped in brown paper and twine. In a familiar, yet elated manner, she greeted the shop keepers as they opened for business with a cheerful ‘bonjour’. Hurriedly, she made her way to Le Mouton Noir, her parent’s restaurant, which was situated in a working-class neighborhood. She entered the threshold of the drab but respectable establishment. Excitedly she exclaimed, “Ma mere the dress Madame Bernard altered for me fits parfaitement!” Juliette glowed with gratitude as her mother emerged from the kitchen.

Michelle Bellechasse smiled sweetly at her daughter and said, “That dress was wasting away in the trunk. I am happy you can wear it.”

“I must show you how it looks on me!” Juliette gushed. She sprinted upstairs to her room with the parcel. Minutes later she reappeared before her mother wearing the newly altered dress.

Long, shiny, loose black curls cascaded down her back. Her light complexion was flushed pale rose. Uncannily her large peridot eyes matched the pale green satin dress. Juliette assumed a pose, elongating her svelte, five-foot three-inch frame to its maximum height. Her mother smiled approvingly.

At that moment, her husband entered the restaurant with parcels of meat from the butcher. Antoine Bellechasse’s mouth was thin, but a wreath of smile lines appeared on his cheeks and at the corners of his eyes as he beheld his beautifully bedecked daughter. A shock of white hair poked from under his cap. He was left speechless by Juliette’s ethereal beauty.

Looking expectantly at her father, Juliette queried, “Mon pere, qu’est-ce que vous pensez de cette robe?”

“Magnifique!” He said admiringly.

“Now I will be presentable for the General Reception at the Hotel de Ville!” She glowed at the prospect. Rare were the opportunities for the working class to hob nob with people of the higher classes, or even international businessmen. Many countries would be represented.

Both parents doted on Juliette and remembered as if it was yesterday when Cure’ Sevigny brought the little girl to the childless couple. At the time, Cure’ Sevigny was a desperate priest. The mother of the child had been a prostitute and had come to the priest once she realized that she was pregnant. She wanted to make a confession. Not wanting to bear a child into such shameful circumstances, once she had been forgiven by the priest, she made a firm purpose of amendment and became a seamstress under the brief tutelage of the nuns from nearby convent. For more than two years she made a valiant attempt at being a seamstress, but after Juliette was born her health took a turn for the worse. Consumption was draining her of good health and preventing her from sewing. Several customers had not paid her for work she had already completed, which didn’t help. On a visit to pick up some mended items, Cure’ Sevigny knocked on the apartment door. He waited. Not hearing anything, he said, “Teresa, are you there?”

He heard a muffled “Entrez.”

Tentatively, he opened the door and came upon the bleak scene of the bedridden mother and the sad child. Teresa’s face was ashen under her light brown complexion. Tight wavy hair framed her face. A hopeful smile flickered across her full lips. “Cure’ Sevigny, you are the answer to my prayers. Please take little Juliette and find her a good home. I know I will not be here much longer.”

The Cure’ sensed the truth of her words. He always carried items for the last rites. Solemnly, he put his stole on said the simple prayers and gave her a small fragment of the Eucharist, food for the journey home. Serene peace and joy entered her expression as she breathed her last.

Forlorn little Juliette, who had withdrawn to the corner of the room sensed a change in her mother. Juliette, only two years old, seemed to know the gravity of the moment. She emerged from the corner, climbed upon the bed next to her mother. Nuzzling her small face into the niche of her mother’s neck, she urgently said, “Ma mere, je t’aime.” She repeated the phrase, expectantly awaiting a response. She lifted her mother’s lifeless arm and draped it around her. Instinctively she shut her eyes tightly and burrowed closer as if for protection.

Cure’ Sevigny viewed the eloquent scene which touched him to the core. Patiently, he waited a long while as Juliette clung to her dead mother. Then gently he patted Juliette’s tiny shoulder, and stooping close to her ear he said, “Maintenant ta mere est avec les anges.”

The Bellechasses were the priest’s dim hope. They were the only childless couple in his parish young enough to raise a small child. It was a dark, rainy April night in 1842 Paris. The priest knocked on the door of the restaurant hoping someone would answer. Juliette was strangely quiet in his arms. She was such a thin little girl; he hardly felt his burden.

Presently, there was a man’s voice behind the door gruffly asking, “Who is it?”

Impatient from the cold wet night, the Cure’ responded, “It is I, the priest!”

Immediately the door swung open to dim candlelight. Damp and chilled, the priest and his human bundle wrapped in his cloak, entered the restaurant. Michelle came from the kitchen to greet him.

“Bon soir, Cure’ Sevigny. What brings you out so late this evening?” Her gaze fell on Juliette as she peeked out from the priest’s cloak.

“I have come, Monsieur et Madame Bellechasse, to throw myself and my charge on your mercy and ask if you could take in little Juliette to raise as your own,” he blurted out. The priest was not one to mince words.

Dumbfounded, Michelle and Antoine pulled out chairs and sat simultaneously. It was a lot to absorb. After what seemed like an eternity, Antoine gestured for the priest to sit. Michelle went to the kitchen and made the priest a hot chocolate and brought bread and some warm milk for the toddler. The scene went forward in silence. The familiar ritual of serving food was a comfort to Michelle.

As she watched little Juliette gobble up the bread and drink the milk, Michelle’s heart melted. Michelle began to weep uncontrollably as her husband, Antoine and Cure’ Sevigny observed her in wide eyed wonderment. Michelle surrendered completely to her tears as she sat at the table with her head down in her arms. So many years had passed in her marriage where she secretly yearned for a child, then felt guilty. She would bury that thought because her husband was such a kind and good man that she didn’t want to distress him that she was unhappy. Primordial sobs rocked her as if a dam had broken. A fluttering caress touched Michelle’s arm. She looked up to see Juliette’s small fingers stroke Michelle’s arm. In amazement she perceived Juliette’s green eyes flooded with tears of empathy. She picked up Juliette and embraced her.

She looked at her husband and pleaded, “Dear Antoine, please let us adopt this child!”

Taken by the child’s gesture, Antoine said firmly, “Certainment!”

Michelle then showered Juliette with tearful kisses. Juliette embraced her with all her might.

Cure’ Sevigny silently prayed in thanksgiving. Before he left the new family, he said, “God thanks you and I thank you.” He left with a joyful heart.

Monsieur and Madame Bellechasse welcomed the raising of Juliette. When she was six years old, she attended the parish school and excelled in all subjects. One of the nuns who could speak English, found that Juliette, after completing her assignments, was bored. To entertain her, the nun taught her

English. Juliette became insatiable in learning the English language. She sharpened her skills to perfection. She practiced on anyone who would cooperate, mainly her parents and their family friend, Madame Bernard. She was Juliette’s piano teacher and a seamstress by trade.

A vivid memory of her natural mother would be triggered by the scent of lavender in the market, or the tight waves in a coiffure worn by a passerby, or even a full lipped smile of a patron in the restaurant. Curiosity and intelligence go hand in hand. When she asked about her mother, the Bellechasses were honest and open. They told her how she had arrived in their care. Cure’ Sevigny had a close friendship with the Bellechasses and was given permission to tell Juliette of her natural mother’s story. The right time fell on Juliette’s twelfth birthday.

Cure’ Sevigny arrived early on a sunny Saturday morning in May at Le Mouton Noir. Juliette greeted him with hot café au lait and pastry. “Juliette, your parents have hired a calèche and soon we will all go for a ride to the cemetery where Teresa Sidamo is buried, your birth mother.”

Juliette excitedly went to the kitchen garden in the alley way and picked a bouquet of lilies of the valley and tied them together with a blue ribbon. Later in the calèche, Cure’ Sevigny told the family as much as he knew of Juliette’s mother.

“Juliette, Teresa Sidamo was an immigrant to France coming from Algeria. She had been born to a French...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 27.4.2021
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Historische Romane
• ISBN-10: 1-0983-7798-2 / 1098377982
• ISBN-13: 978-1-0983-7798-4 / 9781098377984